


431. urban magic

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [175]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: Sarah winds like a snake through streets and alleyways and Helena follows, of course Helena follows.





	

Sarah moves through the city like it’s easy. Sarah knows the pathway through the crowd that gets her to the other side quickly, without touching anyone – and here is Helena, her shoulders bumping against other shoulders, Helena ten feet tall and eight feet wide. Sarah is waiting on the other side of the crossing, hands shoved in the pockets of her leather jacket, looking amused. Above them the skyscrapers shine in the dark. Around them the crowds bustle, beautifully and horribly alive.

“There you are,” Sarah says. “Thought I lost you.”

“You are fast,” Helena says. “Much speed, my _sestra_.”

“Shit,” Sarah says, “you’re not used to crowds.” Helena makes a sort of wobbly gesture with her head that she thinks means _yes_ and Sarah slows down her pace, walks with her hands in her pockets and her head tipped a little back. Helena wonders if she’s watching the stars. You can’t really see them, through the light pollution. But the city is so alive. All these people laughing and yelling and fighting and so – _alive_ , so alive, Helena forgets how much other people can be alive.

“Where are we going?” she says.

“Dunno,” Sarah says, shrugging a shoulder. “Don’t really have a plan, haven’t exactly been back here for a year or so.”

“Oh,” Helena says, blinking. “But you—” She doesn’t know how to put it into words. Something about the lines of Sarah’s shoulders, something with the word _effortless_.

“What?”

“You don’t seem lost.”

“I mean, it’s hard to get lost,” Sarah says, like that’s true. Helena thinks: _I have never been in one city for longer than a year, ever in my life_ , but that seems cruel to Sarah to say. Somehow. She doesn’t know how, but it feels cruel.

“Yes,” she says instead. She considers, for a moment. “If we are not going to a somewhere, can we get food.”

“You’re hungry,” Sarah says, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Well, of course Helena’s hungry. She’s always hungry.

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Sarah says, “I know a place, just—” she winds like a snake through streets and alleyways and Helena follows, of course Helena follows. Sarah has a knowing of this place. There is so much that Sarah knows, that Helena does not know.

And then Helena is holding strips of meat in something that is not a tor-tilla (not tor-tilluh but tor- _tee-yah_ , that’s what Cosima says) or a pancake but something that Sarah says is a peetah, and there’s onions and sauce and she’s eating it and it’s good! It’s very good. There’s a man carving strips of meat from a big revolving hunk of meat and Sarah brought Helena to him, and it’s good. “How did you find this place,” Helena says, except through a mouthful of food it comes out as one big _hrglamph_.

“Came here a few years ago,” Sarah says. “Good, innit?” She has her own peetah and she’s trying to eat it but it’s messy. Someone walks by and passes them a few napkins; _cheers_ , Sarah says, without even looking up. Like she’d known someone would come by and give them what they needed. She owns this city, Helena realizes; this is hers. It’s the veins of her.

She sucks sauce off one finger and wonders the best way to ask Sarah if she’s magic. There was a birthday party that she took Oscar and Gemma to and then hid near and watched; there was a magician there, pulling a million and one scarves out of his hat. And here is Sarah, pulling a million and one places out of this city. Helena wouldn’t even have known.

“Do I have sauce on my face, or somethin’,” Sarah says, and Helena blinks and realizes she’s staring.

“No,” she says, “this is good food, the food is good.”

“High praise, comin’ from you,” Sarah says, mouth twisted at the corner with something fond. She goes back to her food. Above them, the skyscrapers; above them, the absence of stars. Helena licks all of the sauce off of all of her fingers, and lets Sarah lead her deeper into the city’s heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)
> 
> ...now I want gyros


End file.
